


Futility

by Mareel



Series: Lost [6]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Canada, Canon Temporary Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Inktober 2017, M/M, Mass Effect 2, Pre-Mass Effect 2, Pre-Relationship, Relationship(s), pre-Horizon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 23:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12286053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: Just trying to have a life again...





	Futility

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place on the Citadel approximately 2 years after the death of Commander Shepard. It is prior to an acknowledged relationship between Kaidan and John and is Kaidan's voice. .
> 
> Written for the prompt 'searching'.

 

The music is too loud. 

It's like every club in Vancouver, back when I was trying to find myself in the messed-up kid who'd come back from Jump Zero. 

The lights are too bright and the pulsing of the strobes triggered a pre-migraine the minute I walked in. I rub at the back of my neck, trying to unobtrusively soothe the assault on my amp port. 

I didn't know much about the clubs here on the Citadel, so I took the advice of a friend and ended up here, assured that it's one of the quieter places to have a drink.

Dr. Caron – _Jeanne_ , I remind myself – had messaged me that she might be a bit late. She’s on-call tonight at Huerta Memorial and a complicated case could mean a delay. 

The same friend who'd suggested this club spent the last month urging me to get to know her. "She's Canadian, too. You'll have so much in common." He meant well, concerned about my lack of a social life. I didn't mention that Quebec is a world away from Vancouver. And my French is terrible.

I ordered a beer because the waiter kept coming by the table to ask if I’d like anything. But I’ve barely touched it. After the first sip, I started worrying about whether it would be rude for me to start drinking alone. It’s painfully obvious that I’m really not good at this.

It's forty minutes past our planned meeting time and I'm ready to give up and go home. I could say I'd tried. A large part of me is relieved not to have to go through with this – the part of me who still mourns the loss of a man who never knew I loved him.

Just as I'm pushing back my chair, a tall dark-haired woman approaches my corner table. She's still wearing a white lab coat over a well-tailored black dress. Extending her hand, she also offers her name. "Kaidan Alenko? Je suis Jeanne Caron. Je m'excuse pour le retard." She shrugs a shoulder as if to say it couldn't be helped. 

The waiter reappears to take her drink order, and we continue the conversation in English for a few minutes. Small talk really, but I'm not paying much attention. I’ve noticed that her eyes are a clear blue... so much like Shepard's. 

And I panic. 

Tapping my omni-tool, I murmur an excuse about needing to go. She nods, probably as relieved as I am that it's over. 

I know I'll never try this again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure my French is even worse than Kaidan's. My apologies for any inaccuracy in the translation.
> 
> "Je suis Jeanne Caron. Je m'excuse pour le retard." – "My name is Jeanne Caron. I apologize for being late."


End file.
